The assembly ground smelled of rotting straw in the morning mist. Fifty halberdiers stood in crooked ranks amid the fog, the patches of mildew growing in the gaps of their armor echoing that stench.
Marlow noticed the soldier at the far left of the third rank sharpening his halberd blade with a whetstone. But as the curled iron shavings fell into the mud, what they revealed was not a cold gleam, but dark red rust.
These weapons should have been scrapped and melted down for reforging last year, but the upper house's funding existed only in the ledgers. It had never arrived as clinking silver coins.
When his father's efforts had landed him the quartermaster's post, Marlow had even wondered whether he should skim a little off the top. As it turned out, he never had the chance...
Every bit of actual cash had been taken by the legislators above him. They had left nothing behind.
It was an eye-opening experience for Marlow, leaving him marveling in disbelief. He could not help wondering how this newborn Republic could be even more corrupt than the rotten feudal Kingdom of Bagnia.
At least when the kingdom still existed, according to Marlow's father, a marquis, funds for replacing equipment had actually come through. They were occasionally a little short, but the money that needed to be there was never lacking.
The old king who had ruled over them might have been a coward, but he had never cut military spending.
Though Marlow's family had played a part in overthrowing the old king and driving the royal family out of the kingdom, he now found himself feeling almost nostalgic for its rule.
"Go replace all the halberdiers' halberds, then bring over fifty good Arming Swords and distribute them. I've paid for these, so just